


A Weekend at Owl Hall

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: sshg_exchange, Drawing Room Comedy, HP: EWE, Humour, Multi, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owl Hall has a resident ghost, a cranky house-elf, and a pair of Slytherin guests who prove far more interesting than Hermione would have ever anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Weekend at Owl Hall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamy_dragon73](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dreamy_dragon73).



> **Betas** : mollyssister, iulia_linnea, eeyore9990
> 
>  **A/N** : This story was written for dreamy_dragon73 in the 2011 SS/HG exchange. 
> 
> **Original Prompt** : A friend of Hermione's opens a wizarding country house hotel and invites Hermione to the opening weekend together with some other friends. The owner's partner has also invited a couple of people, Snape among them. Old friends, rivals, lovers meet again and it's unlikely any thing will go as planned. Or will it? [With an addition of] I love Lucius, so feel free to turn any of these prompts into sshglm.

**1\. Friday**

A silver-framed picture of two people who considered themselves to be complete strangers sat on Hermione Granger's mantelpiece. She hadn't exactly developed a ritual around it, but at least once a day, she picked it up and stroked the empty space between the smiling man and woman.

They were her parents. A DNA or _Paternus_ test would prove that beyond a doubt. But they had no memories of her. No mementos or photographs of her childhood existed. Her birth certificate had disappeared from the Muggle archives. Hermione was an orphan in reality, if not in fact, and she had no one to blame for it but herself.

"You couldn't have known _Obliviate_ would erase you so completely from their world." His voice gentle, Harry Potter reached for Hermione, and she turned around into his embrace. The weight of the picture pulled at her arm, and she tightened her grip to stop it from slipping out of her hand.

"I should have done more research into the effects," she said, but she knew that it wouldn't have made any difference. She'd been panicked, so desperate to save her parents from Voldemort's insanity that she'd have considered any sacrifice on her part to be worth it.

Harry held her, letting her rest her head on his shoulders in the same way she'd done so many times before. It provided a familiar comfort, even though he was taller now and his shoulders broader than when they'd been kids. As always, it didn't take long before she felt the urge to stand on her own two feet and pushed away. And as always, he released her without complaint and gave her a lopsided grin.

"I'll be fine," she said, as much to reassure herself as him, and replaced the picture on the mantel. A flick of her wand cleaned the smeared fingerprints off the glass.

"Yeah, all right." He stuck his hands in his pockets and poked the toe of his trainer into the carpet and stared at it intently before raising his head and directing all of his intensity at her. "Come up to Owl Hall for the weekend." 

"I don't know. I've got a lot of work—"

"You always have a lot of work." He went back to abusing her carpet and not looking at her. "Please, Hermione. Pansy's been so worried the whole thing would be a disaster that she took over the invitations for opening weekend. She only invited people she knew would come, and you know what that means. You wouldn't believe what I had to promise to get her to hold the attic rooms on the cliffside for you."

An image of the suite at the top of the house flashed through Hermione's memory in a haze of wooden beams, angled walls, and mullioned windows. She glanced at her parents' photograph and reminded herself again that they'd always wanted her to be happy. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she said, "All right. It's past time I started poking my head out of work once in a while, and I could use a weekend away from here."

Grinning, Harry dragged her into another hug, this time lifting her up and swinging her around in a circle. "Thanks," he said. "The trial opening wouldn't be the same without my best friend there."

___('v')___

Severus Snape's hackles rose as he stepped out of the folly that served as the Apparation point for Owl Hall. He was surrounded by gardens that struck just the right balance between wild and manicured. The old manor house in front of him gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. It was disgustingly gorgeous, and he hated everything about it.

A muffled crack echoed inside the folly behind him and Lucius Malfoy came to stand beside him. Severus chanced a peek out of the corner of his eye and couldn't help but approve of the way Lucius's trousers and fitted long jacket curved around his arse.

Lucius inclined his head in greeting. His pleasure at seeing Severus again was evident in the slight upward curve to the left side of his mouth and the fact that his weight was on his heels rather than the balls of his feet.

After a moment of silence, Lucius said, "The invitation was a pleasant surprise."

"I nearly Incendioed mine."

"And yet you didn't." 

Severus harrumphed. 

Smirking at him, Lucius reached for his wand and spun it in a complicated gesture. A Grooming charm took care of the minor disarray of his clothing and hair before washing over Severus.

"Do you mind?" Glaring at him, Severus tugged the cuffs of his white shirt back into place, ensuring that the correct length was visible below the sleeves of his black frock coat.

Completely unaffected, Lucius tucked his wand back into its holster and clasped his hands behind his back. "Not at all."

"I don't understand why Minerva insisted I accept." Severus knew he sounded petulant, but he didn't care. "A weekend at a hotel in the country is far from my favourite holiday."

Lucius arched an eyebrow, and Severus felt every word of reproval that Lucius hadn't said. The urge to look away was almost unbearable, but Severus continued to meet Lucius's gaze. 

"All other issues aside," Lucius said. "We both owe Harry Potter far too much to ignore his invitation."

"The owl came from Pansy Parkinson."

"Parkinson-Potter."

Shock drove both of Severus's eyebrows up towards his hairline and left him bereft of a comeback. 

"Merlin, Severus, have you been living in a cave for the past four years?"

"Zurich is hardly a cave," Severus said. "I simply have not indulged in common gossip."

"Is that what they call newspapers in Switzerland?"

There was no such thing as a polite answer to that question, so Severus gestured towards the house where Pansy was waiting for them at the top of the steps. "Shall we?" he asked, and strode down the path. 

For some unfathomable reason, Severus found himself missing the counterpoint of Lucius's cane to the click of their boot heels on the flagstones.

___('v')___

Pansy knew that she was being an idiot. She wasn't quite as terrified as she'd been when the Dark Lord had attacked Hogwarts, but she was pretty damn close. And fear always made her do and say stupid things. Merlin, how she hated herself sometimes.

"Everything will be fine," Harry said, clearly not realising that his attempts to calm her just made her want to attack him and tear him down into shreds. Nearly four years they'd been together, six months of those married, and he still hadn't worked out that she hated being soothed.

"Would you stop doing that?" Pansy twisted out of his embrace and went back to peeking out the window. Snape and Lucius Malfoy were still standing there, looking as if they were about to change their minds any minute. "If they don't stay for the weekend," she said, "Draco will never forgive me."

"They'll stay." 

The expression on Harry's face was so much like the one he'd had when he'd faced down the Wizengamot for her and the other Slytherins that it sent a shiver of arousal through Pansy. She focussed on the possibility of all of her plans not working, and when she had herself back under control, asked, "How can you be sure?"

"Because I've already raised the Anti-Apparation wards."

"And Draco insists that you can't teach a Gryffindor new tricks." She kissed the tip of his nose. "Well done, darling."

Harry reached for her, but she danced out of range and towards the front doors. 

"Later," she promised. "Right now, I've got our most difficult pair of guests to greet." Ruffling his hair with her hand, she kissed him again, this time properly on the lips. "And you've got to make sure Hermione doesn't leave once she knows who else we've invited."

___('v')___

Harry half-ran into Hermione's room and closed the door firmly behind him. "Remind me why I didn't object when Pansy told me she was inviting Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy?"

"You never told me." Hermione tapped the page in her book to mark her place and set it aside. "And she could have done worse than invite Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy, you know?"

"Worse?" Harry rocked back on his heels and gaped at her. "The only possible way it could have been worse is if Pansy had actually gone through with her idea of inviting Kingsley and Narcissa."

"At least the Weasleys are over in America visiting Ron and what's-her-name."

"Oh god," he groaned. "I didn't even think of them."

The horror of what she'd suggested sank into Hermione. Feeling a bit faint, she half-sat, half-fell into the armchair behind her. "I have no idea why I did," she said. "I've hardly seen Molly and Arthur since Ron—" 

She banished the memory of Ron's _Dear Hermione_ letter back to the depths where it belonged. That he'd been right and they'd been toxic for each other only made his disappearance two days before their wedding that much harder to take. Shaking her head, she continued with, "Since Ron left."

"Ginny," Harry said.

"Pansy didn't?"

"Of course she did. That flash of red high heels you saw at the top of the stairs when you came in was Ginny heading for her room."

"I wish I'd had a chance to say hello," Hermione said. "I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks. Not since she and—"

Harry shushed her. 

"What?"

"They haven't told Lucius yet."

"Oh, they're not." 

"Oh, yes, they are." Harry made a face. "As if this bloody weekend isn't looking to be excruciatingly awkward enough, they've decided it's finally time to come clean." 

"It'll be fine. You'll see," Hermione said, thinking he was utterly underestimating the Slytherin mindset. "Lucius Malfoy is far too politically astute not to want his only son to marry one of the few pureblood heroes around."

"I hope you're right. I've grown to like this place." 

Deciding that was as good a cue as any to change the subject, she asked, "How many rooms did you decide to open with?"

"Just the ones in the main house. We're going to renovate a couple of the outbuildings eventually, but we decided to wait and see if this works out." Harry walked over to the doors that led out to the terrace. They were open, letting in the sound and scents of the waves hitting the rocks far below. 

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"You've got the attic room on the cliff side, and Ginny has the one facing the gardens. Everyone else is on the first floor."

Annoyance surged through her. Harry had better not be avoiding her questions intentionally. "Who is _everyone else_?"

A flush stained Harry's cheeks when he turned around. "Aside from the ones you know? Draco and Blaise," he said. "You already know about Snape and Lucius who, on top of everything else, apparently haven't spoken to each other in years. And then she decided I needed someone else on my side. So she invited Minerva and Hooch, who arrived just before you did and haven't been seen since."

"That's going to be... interesting." 

"As long as no one kills me or anyone else, yeah."

Hermione met Harry's wild-eyed gaze. "No publicity is bad publicity," she said, and then started giggling in a way she hadn't in years.

They were still laughing when Pansy's voice sounded in the room. "Harry, can you come down to the first floor. There's a problem with Snape's room." She paused before adding, "Please?"

"Oh fuck, that's her safe word." Harry was racing for the door before Hermione had processed what he'd said.

"A safe word," she muttered to the empty room, shaking her head as she followed in his wake. "Honestly, there are some things even I don't want to know."

___('v')___

As Lucius and Severus followed Pansy from reception to their rooms, Severus took note of every alcove, window, and door. He trod down sharply in several places, once after casting a surreptitious Muffling charm, and determined that the acoustics were slightly more than adequate.

Pansy stopped near the end of the corridor. At a wave of her wand, the door to her left opened to reveal a dim room decorated in deep purple fabric and black oak wainscoting, furniture, and floor to ceiling bookcases. "This one is yours, Prof... er... Mr Snape." 

"And for you, Mr Malfoy." Another wave opened the door on the short wall exposed a light-filled room furnished much more elaborately in pale cream wood and brighter coloured fabrics.

Severus grimaced at the sight and turned back to Pansy. "The key?" 

"Don't be a boor, Severus," Lucius said. "No respectable Wizarding hotel uses keys these days." He turned to Pansy. "You have a way to link access to our magic, I presume."

"Of course." Pansy walked into Severus's room open and showed them a brass plate set into the wall. "Trace the design with the tip of your wand. When you reach the gem at the centre, tap it and say _Meum_ to accept the room. Tap again to assign a password for the duration of your stay."

"Fine," Severus said. "Now leave."

"Dinner is at 7 o'clock in the dining room. I assume you remember where that is. Dress according to your preferences." She made a show of looking him over from head to toe. "Even fusty black is acceptable here."

With that, she pivoted on her heel and left the room. Lucius smirked at him and swept out after her. 

A quick charm slammed the door shut behind them, and Severus added his usual protections to the wards before going over to the wall plate and ensuring that no one else could enter without his permission. Then he pulled his suitcase out of his pocket, placed it on the bed, and Unshrunk it. He was bent over, unpacking it, when an unfamiliar voice interrupted him.

"My oh my, aren't you an improvement to the old pile?"

His wand dropping out of its forearm holster into his hand, Severus swung around and pointed it at... a ghost.

The figure was tall and slender, wearing an ornate doublet that was heavily slashed and puffed to display the shirt underneath, breeches, thigh-high boots, and a feathered hat. The colours were the same grey as the ghost himself, but Severus had no doubt that they'd once been jewel bright.

The ghost's cold hand drifted down Severus's arm. "You are a bit of an old crow, though, aren't you? Tragic, really, what you're hiding under this."

Severus yanked his arm away, slashing his wand through the ghost.

"Ooh that tickled." The ghost wriggled. "Do it again?"

"Get out," he said, pointing his wand at the door.

"You would banish me from my own room?" The ghost sighed dramatically. "Thou hast cleft my heart in two."

Severus could hear his teeth grind. "Bugger. Off."

"I used to love a good buggering." The ghost sighed again as it drifted backwards to the sitting area. "I haven't had one of those in centuries. In truth, it was—"

"Out!" With a flick of his wand, Severus flung the door open hard enough that it crashed against the wall.

The ghost merely preened in front of a mirror.

Growling at it, Severus began flipping through his mental list of hexes and curses in search of the few that could affect the non-corporeal.

Muttered words came from the hallway outside, and then Pansy poked her head around the doorjamb. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? Unacceptable is more to the point." Severus sneered at her. "You cannot expect me to sleep here."

"What's wrong? This is one of our best rooms." She walked inside. Her gaze paused for a moment on the ghost and then returned to Severus. "Isn't it dank and dreary enough for you?" 

"I require another room. This one is apparently occupied."

"Unfortunately, we have no other rooms available and there is no one staying in this one except you."

The ghost smirked at him.

"Fine, I'll switch with someone else." Severus crossed his arms over his chest and loomed over her. 

To his frustration, she merely straightened up and met his gaze. "No," she said. "If this one doesn't suit you, I can't imagine any of the others will."

"It's not the room. It's the company."

"Oh." The ghost swooned back onto the chaise longue, clutching his chest. "You wound me like unto death."

"We should all be so lucky." 

"Ah, I see you've met Hugh Launceleyn." Potter joined Pansy, slipping an arm around her waist. Hermione Granger came to stand on his other side. "Hugh, this is our friend Hermione Granger, and that's Severus Snape."

Hugh bounced to his feet, removed his hat, and swept Severus a bow that was deep enough to expose the pommel of the knife stuck in the back of his neck. "At your service, oh tall, dark, and fearsome." 

Flicking his wand at Hugh, Severus said, " _Confringo_!"

Spell-light swirled up from the floor and formed a circle around the ghost, absorbing the Blasting curse before dissipating.

"No cursing the ghost or the guests," Potter said. "The protections on Owl Hall won't permit it."

"Self-righteous damn—"

Granger snickered, and Severus could feel his cheeks heat.

"Causing trouble already, Severus?" Lucius sauntered through the door. "I think that's a record for you."

Before Severus could respond, Hugh floated over. He kept glancing between Lucius and Severus. The beatific smile on his face made him look like a Niffler who'd just found a dragon's hoard. "You are together, aren't you?"

Granger's snicker turned into a giggle. Severus clenched his hand around his wand, and a muscle began to jump in his cheek.

"Hugh," Pansy said. "I thought we'd agreed that you wouldn't haunt the guest rooms."

Hugh's expression turned sulky. "You said not to keep them up at night. It isn't night."

Potter cleared his throat. 

"As you will." Removing his hat with a flourish, Hugh spun through Lucius and Severus, and then vanished.

"Ban him," Severus said, "or I'm checking out and going home."

"I hope not," Granger spoke up for the first time. "I've learned some new chess moves since our last game."

An image of the uncomfortable bed in Hogwarts' Infirmary and the Gryffindor who'd patiently sat and kept him company for hours flashed through Severus's mind. He gave a quick sharp nod and said, "Perhaps."

And taking that as the final word it was, the others said their goodbyes and left him to finish unpacking. Lucius's thoughtful consideration of Granger's backside was almost provocation enough for Severus to chance the wards again and attempt a Stinging hex.

___('v')___

Pansy finally found Blaise in the public sitting room. He was curled up in a chair, looking out through one of the curved windows at the rose garden. As was her habit upon entering that room, she went over to the mirror that hung above the fireplace. It was one of the few pieces she'd been able to rescue from her family's home before the Ministry sold it and everything left inside at auction to cover her father's debts.

"Why did you even bother promising to behave yourself?" Pansy smoothed her hand along the twisted silver of its frame, tickling her favourite serpent under the chin as she'd done ever since she was tall enough to reach. "You're clearly going to act like an arse all weekend."

"If I'd had the faintest idea that McGonagall's hair would look so spectacular down around her shoulders rather than screwed into that awful bun, I wouldn't have even considered agreeing to your ridiculous demand, and you know it," Blaise said. "And then there's Hooch. Have you seen how her eyes glint when I flirt with McGonagall? I really should have paid more attention to that woman in school."

Pansy swung around. "Behave or I'll let Harry take care of you."

His voice dropping at least an octave, Blaise gave her a predatory smile. "Promises, promises."

"You're an absolute bitch, and I haven't fallen for that in years." Pansy almost winced when she realised what an opening she'd given him, especially after he'd used that very same tone more than once in their seventh year to save her from Alecto Carrow's unwanted attentions.

Blaise, however, merely shrugged in response, and that worried her more than the remonstrations and apologies he usually offered up in defence of his behaviour.

"You're an impossible flirt," she said, turning back to the mirror and fluffing her hair.

"And you're a damned lucky witch."

Her smile fading quickly as she remembered why she'd had to track him down, Pansy said, "Don't change the subject. Hooch has already mentioned your 'inappropriate behaviour' to Harry." She rubbed the serpent hard enough that it turned its head and dug silver fangs into her finger, not quite breaking the skin. Hissing at it, she pulled her hand back.

Blaise appeared in the mirror behind her. Head and shoulders taller than her, his natural linen tunic and trousers made his dark skin seem to glow. "She really complained?" 

"Just don't do it again." Uncomfortable with how close he was, Pansy pushed away and went to sit in one of the armchairs. "This weekend is important, Blaise."

Before he nodded in agreement, he contemplated her for long enough that she was tempted to hex him. "I'll not even pretend to understand why you want to be a hotel owner, no matter how secluded or exclusive the property, but I'll do my best to behave."

He fidgeted for a moment, and then a beatific smile broke out across his face. "You have to agree that McGonagall's hair is gorgeous though, right? All those waves and silver streaks that seem to capture the light?"

"Oh... you..." Shaking her head and laughing, Pansy threw a cushion at him.

___('v')___

Descending the main staircase, Hermione's stomach rumbled at the scent of fresh-baked bread. Skipping lunch probably hadn't been the smartest move, but she'd had to finish drafting the settlement for one of her clients before she left. Holidays were all well and good, but not if they meant missing a court-imposed deadline.

She was about to head for the dining room when she heard vaguely familiar laughter coming through an open set of double doors to her right. Curious, she went to investigate.

The room was furnished with a scattering of overstuffed furniture in what her mother had called 'conversation settings' and filled with light from the windows that ran along one wall and gave the impression that the gardens were part of the room. 

A thud drew her attention from the multi-coloured mass of roses outside the windows to Pansy and Blaise, and the remnants of a cushion that were scattered over the polished wooden floor and a knotted rug. 

"Looks like they're having fun," Ginny said, as she came to stand next to Hermione in the doorway. Her hair hung down almost to her waist in a fall of coppery red. Her short green dress was subdued in comparison. 

Hermione's heart gave a thump at the unexpected happiness of seeing Ginny, and she said, "Hi."

"Hi." 

They watched together as Pansy deemed the cushion irreparable and Banished the detritus.

"It's been a while," Ginny said. "Too long, really."

"The law is an ass, and a jealous one at that." Hermione shrugged. "It tends to eat up all my time if I'm not watching carefully."

"You're changing the world, though. Just like you promised to do in school."

"For the better, I hope," Hermione said. "Although the members of the Wizengamot don't always agree with me on that."

"What more can you expect from a bunch of old fuddy-duddies?" Lucius asked from behind her. "Surely you don't expect wholehearted approval when you insist on dragging the likes of Monty St John into the twenty-first century. The man still believes women ought to be denied the vote."

Ginny sniggered. "The look on his face in that _Quibbler_ photograph, after Hermione won the werewolf reproduction case. I thought he was going to have an aneurysm."

Hermione's momentary happiness evaporated. "He nearly did. They had to get the mediwizards in to check on him."

"Hardly." Lucius snorted. "The old bastard made one too many derogatory comments about Miss Granger, and Augusta Longbottom finally lost her temper. An Icicle jinx between the legs is not something a wizard recovers from easily."

"Icicle... oh my god." Hermione laughed. "That's brilliant."

"I love that woman," Ginny said, giggling. "I want to be just like her when I grow up."

One of Lucius's eyebrows arched, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the flurry of the other guests coming down the stairs and Harry's announcement that dinner was being served in the dining room.

___('v')___

There were no place cards on the dining table, but Potter directed Severus to a chair between Lucius and Minerva with Granger across from him. He shook his head and tried to head towards a seat further down, but Potter gave him the same look that his mother, Lily, had always used to get her way. Sitting down in a daze, he nearly jumped back out of his seat when Minerva touched his left arm.

"It's about time you returned from the Continent," she said.

"I've missed you, too." Severus spread his napkin over his lap. A glance over at Lucius proved that his head was bent towards the Weasley girl who was seated on his other side. 

Minerva laid her hand on his arm again, drawing his attention down to her thin fingers and away from the nervous twitch of Draco's left hand as he watched his father and fiancée. "Hullo, Severus."

Giving her a curt nod, he said, "Minerva," and then surveyed the rest of the table.

"Old habits dying hard," she said. "There's no one here who'll hurt you."

Remembering the feel of glass shattering around him as she chased him down, he funnelled his response into an arched eyebrow and a pointed, "Perhaps."

She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "We've worked hard in this country to bury those days with Voldemort's ashes. As I'm sure you can tell by those seated at this table." Her voice lowered and softened, and her grip tightened. "Can you not let them go, too?"

Resentment boiled in him, and the muscles of his forearm tensed with the urge to throw her off. But then he heard Weasley and Pansy laugh, and the amused rumble of Lucius's voice. Raising his head, he found himself meeting Minerva's eyes and noticing that tension was once again carving lines into the skin around them. 

"I have missed you," she said. "We all have."

A sharp retort died on his tongue. "I've said all the apologies I'm going to."

"None were ever needed. Not for doing what you were required to do." 

"You owe me a letter," he said, reaching for his wine glass when she released his arm. "Your last left off with the house-elves catching Trelawney stealing sherry from the kitchens." 

To his relief, she launched into the tale of the escalating feud between Trelawney and the house-elves that lasted until it was interrupted by a small pop and Granger's scandalised, "Harry, how could you?"

"How could I..." Potter craned his head to see what Granger was upset about. "Oh, hullo Winky. Are those our starters?"

The diminutive house-elf bobbed an awkward curtsey. Soup bowls appeared on the table in front of each of the guests, and a wave of her hand sent the two soup tureens skimming off her tray to land in the middle of the table. "One is being Stilton and Broccoli, the other is Master Harry's favourite Cream of Mushroom."

"Thank you, Winky," Pansy said. "We'll serve ourselves."

"As Mistress Pansy wishes." The elf bobbed again before disappearing with another pop.

"House-elves, Harry?" Granger's eyes flashed with anger, colour rose to her cheeks, and Severus found himself unable to look away. "I thought you of all people would understand—"

Pansy cut her off. "I think you're the one who doesn't understand."

Potter opened his mouth to speak, and Granger said, "Oh really? And I suppose you understand the _proper_ place of house-elves in wizarding society?" 

"That's torn it," Lucius murmured in Severus's ear. "She's lovely, mind you, even if a trifle low on manners." 

"I'm not discussing this at our dinner table in front of our guests," Pansy said. "If you wish to have it out, please have the manners to do so afterwards."

Granger flinched as if she'd been hit, and then pressed her lips together so tightly that they looked bloodless. After a quick glance at Potter, who gave her one of those wide-eyed pleading gazes that had worked on Severus earlier, she said in a deceptively mild tone, "As Mistress Pansy wishes." And then she ladled Stilton soup into her bowl.

A hubbub of conversation rose to fill the silence, with everyone talking at once. Except Granger, who was focussed on her soup, twin points of red marking her cheeks.

"Airs and graces are highly overrated," Severus said, keeping his voice low so that only Lucius could hear him. "I'll take a woman with intelligence and a mind of her own over good manners any day of the week."

Lucius smirked at him, and for a moment, Severus could see the young man who'd captured his attention all those decades earlier. Before the Dark Lord had ruined everything for them both.

___('v')___

**2\. Saturday**

It had taken hours for Hermione to fall asleep. Harry's apology had been half-hearted at best, which hadn't done much to make her feel better about the scene she'd caused at dinner. Afterwards, when everyone else returned to the sitting room for drinks, she'd pled tiredness and come up to her room. What had been really galling was that no one had objected or tried to get her to stay.

Fuming, she tossed the covers off and stalked into the ensuite bathroom to take a shower. Harry couldn't avoid her forever, she decided. They would have that talk whether he wanted to or not. 

She ran through a hundred scenarios in her head as she shampooed her hair and soaped her body, and by the time she walked back into the bedroom, she had a glimmer of a plan. 

Kreacher was waiting for her, standing in the centre of her room. He was wearing a clean pillowcase with a snowy owl embroidered on the shoulder. Regulus's locket gleamed on his chest. His bulbous eyes narrowed menacingly when he saw her, and she instinctively pulled her dressing gown closer. 

"The Mu—" Kreacher struggled for a moment to finish the word before saying, "The Granger-witch is wrong. The Granger-witch should not upset Winky with her wrongness."

"What?" Sidling past him, Hermione scrambled into her bed and under the covers. She slid her hand under her pillow and retrieved her wand. 

"The Granger-witch does book research about everything except house-elves." Kreacher took a step closer and flexed his spindly fingers. "House-elves are being worth book research, even for the Granger-witch."

"Book research?" Hermione's mind stuttered and then began to race. She ran through everything she remembered reading about house-elves. "I've read books about—"

"The Granger-witch is only reading books written by witches and wizards."

 _House-elf books_? An ache rose in Hermione's chest, a need to find and own every single one of those books, to add them to her collection of scrolls, tablets, and other items written upon by the centaurs, goblins, and other sentient species of the wizarding world. "I didn't know house-elves wrote books," she said.

"House-elves are not illiterate." Kreacher popped onto the bed and stood over her. "House-elves are simply knowing what they want from wizards and witches. House-elves want a home. House-elves want order and to be taking care of things."

"Dobby wanted to be free."

"Dobby was a brave elf." Kreacher shook his head sadly. "Dobby was wanting to be free of Malfoys. Dobby was wanting to work for Master Harry." 

"No, Dobby wanted to be a free elf. He liked it."

"The Granger-witch asked Dobby about this?"

Instinct had Hermione wanting to object, but she considered all her encounters with Dobby instead. Had she asked him?

"The Granger-witch is not to knit elf clothes in Owl Hall," Kreacher said, flinging out a hand. A cupboard door opened, Hermione's cloth knitting bag jumped into it, and the door clicked shut. "The Granger-witch is to read books instead."

Before Hermione could point him to the stack on her bedside table, a book appeared in mid-air and fell into her lap. It was handmade and just the right size for a house-elf. The stitching along the cover and spine was neat and tidy, and the pages were as thin as onionskin. Hermione cast Cleaning charms on her hands before laying her wand aside and opening the book. She squinted at the cover page. The writing was so tiny and cramped she'd need a Magnifying spell to read it. 

"Kreacher will take the book back when the Granger-witch leaves."

"Oh," Hermione said, clutching the book to her chest. "I can't keep it?"

"If the Granger-witch reads and understands, Kreacher will make a copy for her."

"Thank you," she said, but Kreacher was gone before she could finish the words. She bent over the book and began examining it more closely. On the inside back cover, the Black family crest was so worn that it was hard to recognise. 

Her heart beat rapidly as she brushed her fingertips over the slight indentation. She'd been wrong before, and she'd be wrong again, but she refused to remain misinformed when given the opportunity to fix it.

As she turned back to the front page, Kreacher popped in again. "The Granger-witch is not missing breakfast," he said and placed a tray on the table. 

When he was gone, Hermione got out of bed. The smells of tea and toast, the sight of her favourite yoghurt and fruit reminded her that she was hungry. A quickly cast spell unwound the towel from her head and Banished it to the bathroom. Another took care of drying, brushing, and fastening back her hair. 

A few minutes later, book in one hand, and cup of tea in the other, she settled in the window seat. Outside the sun was shining in a sky dotted with white puffy clouds, and she could see Snape and Malfoy — Severus and Lucius, she reminded herself, and smiled to think that she was on a first name basis with men who had once terrified, annoyed, and frustrated her in equal measure. 

They were walking the labyrinth built into one of the knot gardens, clearly long-time friends getting reacquainted. Severus had discarded his robes, and his clothes were as well-fitting as Lucius's. 

Was it wrong, she wondered, to admire them both, to want them both? They were around the same age as her father, but then again, boys her age tended to be both boring and unable to keep up with her. Giving them one last lingering, appreciative glance, she put off that thought until later and opened the house-elf book.

___('v')___

Hermione had missed breakfast and lunch. She hadn't turned up in the library, even though Severus had spent most of the morning and afternoon there. By four o'clock, he decided that it was reasonable to be concerned about the woman. A quick check proved that the sitting room was empty, and so he went up to the attic.

Unsure of which room belonged to Hermione, Severus knocked on the doors at each end of the hallway without success. At the second one, he stood for a moment, his hand hovering over the knob, but decided not to attempt to enter. She would undoubtedly have warded her rooms, and if she were even half as good as her reputation, he'd be hard-pressed to get through them.

Potter would likely know where she was, but would he be willing to share that knowledge with Severus? There being only one way to find out, he headed back down stairs and tried to come up with a reason why he'd want to speak with her. 'She's a lovely witch with a brilliant mind, and I want to get to know her better' hardly seemed like something Potter would understand. Perhaps a book, he thought.

"Have you seen Miss Granger... Hermione?" Severus approached the reception desk, where Pansy and Minerva were discussing the map spread on the surface between them. "The Monitor Book in the library insists that she's got Elfric Andersson's treatise checked out, and I would like a chance to see it before I return home."

"A little light reading?" Pansy smirked at him. "You could have just asked, instead of making up an excuse."

Drawing himself up to his full height, Severus peered down his nose at her. "It's hardly an excuse. There are only three extant copies of that treatise in the world, and I've been on the waiting list to view the one in the Lucerne Wizarding Library for months."

A slow clapping drew his attention to the side where Hooch was standing. "Bravo, Severus. You'd have convinced me if I hadn't known that the third copy was in the Restricted Section at Hogwarts."

Severus sneered at Hooch as he silently berated himself for letting that one detail escape him.

"Hermione is in the back gardens, with a pile of books and some of our other guests," Pansy said. "Although I don't think Andersson's treatise is among them."

"Are we sorted, Minerva?" Hooch asked. "I'd like to get back from our walk with enough time to have a bath before dinner."

Minerva moved out from behind the desk, and Severus almost gaped at her. In all the years he'd known her, he never seen her in trousers before. The black and dark blue tartan wool suited her as much as her usual long dresses did. She granted him a tight smile. "We're taking a walk along the cliff path. You're welcome to join us."

"Why thank you, fair ladies." Blaise strolled out of the sitting room. "I do believe I'll take you up on that invitation."

"It was given to a friend, not to you," Hooch said.

"And yet, here I am, ready to walk." 

"Mr Zabini," Minerva said, "while we appreciate your—"

"No we don't," Hooch muttered.

"—interest, you are far too young."

"Not to mention the wrong sex," Hooch added.

Blaise grinned at them. "But I'm amusing."

"Irritating is more like it." Hooch held her hand out to Minerva. "Shall we go before his inflated ego explodes and makes a mess of the place?"

Folding the map away into a pocket, Minerva took her hand, and they both walked out of through the front doors.

A complicated spin of Blaise's wand transfigured his trousers and cotton shirt into jeans and a sweater, and his comfortable-looking shoes in walking boots. "Wish me luck," he said and followed them out the door.

"He'll be lucky if Hooch doesn't push him off a cliff," Pansy said. "Frankly, I don't know what it is with him and older women. I don't think I've ever seen him interested in anyone under the age of fifty."

"Oedipal complex," Severus offered and smirked when Pansy's eyes widened with horror. 

"I could have lived for my entire life without thinking about that." She grimaced. "Have you ever seen his mother? She reminds me more of an Acromantula than a Black Widow. She's that deadly."

"Thankfully, Mrs Zabini never felt the need to visit Hogwarts. Apparently, she's allergic to children."

Pansy snorted with laughter, and then looked absolutely horrified. "I can't believe you said that with a straight face. You're absolutely wicked." She smirked at him. "I think I'm finally starting to understand why so many people at Hogwarts thought you were attractive."

"Rather slow on the uptake, isn't she?" Hugh drawled. "I knew that five seconds after meeting you."

Wand already slipping down from the holster into his hand, Severus pivoted on one heel. 

Hugh was perched on the newel. He blew Severus a kiss and disappeared.

"Everything all right?"

"Fine," he said, turning back to Pansy. "Just fine."

Giving the staircase and then Severus an undecipherable look, she shrugged. "If you insist." 

Silence descended on them. Pansy busied herself with straightening the quill, inkpot, and blotter on the desk. When she opened a drawer and started messing around with its contents, Severus lost his patience.

"About Hermione?" he prompted, tucking his wand back into his sleeve.

She closed the drawer with a decisive bang that made him wonder if she was up to something. Before he could complete that thought, she said, "Last I saw her, she was outside with Harry and Ginny." She came around from behind the desk. "I'll show you."

She led him down the short hallway behind the stairs and into a long narrow room filled with shrouded furniture.

"The billiards room, or it will be when we've finished with it," she said, patting a table as she passed. "There're another ways to get to the terrace, of course, but that would either take you all the way around the outside or through the ballroom. And we haven't even begun on that."

Following her out the door at the other end, Severus found himself standing at the very end of a terrace. An oval pool surrounded by flagstones, statues of magical creatures, and hedges clipped into elaborate shapes lay in front of him. On the far side of the pool was a stone building, open across the front. Potter, Lucius, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco were sitting on wicker chairs, drinks in hand. 

Severus took a step back. Three guests had gone for a walk, everyone else was having fun, and he hadn't been invited to join either party. As usual. He wasn't sure why he'd thought things would be different if he returned to England. They weren't though, and the proof was staring him in the face. 

He took another step back and began to turn around.

Pansy tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I don't know about you, but I could definitely use a drink." She steered him down a path towards the others.

The corners of Severus's mouth twitched when Hermione smiled at him in greeting and Potter pushed a chair towards him with one foot. Then again, he thought, perhaps things had changed. One of these days, he might even find himself calling Potter _Harry_. Suppressing a shudder at that thought, he sat down and accepted the glass of white wine Draco had floated over to him.

___('v')___

"We should go get ready for dinner as well," Pansy said, as she watched their guests make their way back to the house.

"In a minute." Harry pulled her towards him and bent his head to kiss her. 

She parted her lips to welcome him as she always did, always would, and the familiar feeling of being where she belonged swept over her. When he drew back, she rested her head on his chest and shifted her hips to feel his hardness and hear his stifled groan. "You're getting predictable," she told him.

"And you're not," he said, squeezing her arse and grinning at her when she wrapped a leg around one of his, trailing the heel of her sandals up his leg as she did it.

"Maybe predictability is underrated." She wriggled against his grip, holding on to his arms for balance.

"Christ, Pansy, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" 

"Of course." A lascivious lick of her lips had him clinging to her for dear life. "Although we do have to survive dinner first."

This time his groan echoed off the walls of the stone building. "You're killing me." 

"In the best of ways," she agreed with a smirk. "I want you to make sure that Hermione is seated between Lucius and Severus with Draco and Ginny across from them."

"You're thinking." His lower lip protruded in a pout. 

"One of us has to, darling. As much as I love you, that isn't exactly your strongest suit." Pansy untangled herself from Harry and smoothed down her short skirt, ignoring the way he reached for her. "Now," she kissed him lightly on the mouth, "do sort yourself out before coming back inside."

She turned and walked away from him, making sure her hips had just the right sway to keep him watching her all the way to the door.

___('v')___

Dinner had been far less awkward than Hermione had imagined when she sat down. Lucius and Severus had been amusing in their attempts to gain her attention. At least that's what she thought — _hoped_ — they'd been trying to do.

Minerva and Hooch said goodnight, and everyone else made their way to the sitting room for drinks. Hermione, however, hung back and waited until she heard the familiar pops of house-elves arriving. "Hi," she said.

Clearly alarmed by her presence, Winky sidled behind Kreacher. 

"Granger-witch," Kreacher croaked. "You needs something?"

Taking a deep breath and clenching her trembling hands, Hermione said, "I read your book."

Winky peeked out from behind Kreacher.

"The Granger-witch is having an opinion that must be shared." Kreacher sounded disappointed. 

"The—" Hermione cleared her throat. " _I_ think that most house-elves are happy with their wizarding families. However, there are some elves who are mistreated by their families." She looked pointedly at Winky, who squeaked and hid behind Kreacher again. 

Kreacher's ears flapped. "A very few some," he conceded.

"I'd like to help them." 

Winky poked her head back out. "Mistress is not going to _help_ elves who is not needing it?"

Hoping to reassure her, Hermione smiled. "No, but I would like to help any house-elves who need to find a new family."

"Kreacher thinks about what the Granger-witch offers." He snapped his fingers and the dishes on the table began to stack themselves on trays. "But first Kreacher and Winky must tidy, and the Granger-witch must leave the room."

"All right," Hermione said, clamping down on the urge to start doing something right then and there. "Your book is in my room, if you want it back."

The intensity of Kreacher's gaze made her want to look away, but she held steady underneath it. "Mistress may keep it," he finally said. 

"Thank you." 

He nodded gravely. The two house-elves paid her no more attention and focussed on cleaning up after dinner. Hermione watched them for a few seconds then left the room.

Severus was waiting for her. "That was well done," he said. 

"You were watching?" 

"You didn't know?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again when they heard Lucius snarl, "Are you quite finished berating me, Draco?"

Exchanging a glance with Severus, Hermione sprinted to the sitting room.

___('v')___

His long legs covering the ground faster than Hermione's, Severus arrived at the sitting room doors just before she did. Inside, Lucius and Draco were sneering at each other. Ginny was standing behind Draco with her hands on her hips. Potter was sitting on the sofa and holding onto Pansy, who looked unhappy, and Blaise was slouched in an armchair, twirling his wand in a way that made Severus want to take points from him.

"You gave up any right you ever had to give me advice long ago, Father," Draco said. "Somewhere around the time you forgot to put your family ahead of the... of Voldemort."

"How many times do I have to apologise for my mistakes?" Lucius flicked his hair back over his shoulder, a clear sign of his agitation. "Am I to look forward to having them thrown them in my face whenever you get angry with me?"

"I don't..." Draco sighed. "You have no idea what it's like."

Lucius reached out to him, a movement that almost looked involuntary, as did the grimace he made when Draco avoided his touch. 

Severus's heart clenched in sympathy. He knew how much Lucius's son meant to him. However, he remained silent and still, and motioned to Hermione to do the same. She looked mutinous but did as he directed. 

"I know what it's like to try and pick up the pieces after your parents have made a mockery of the Malfoy name." Lucius's voice was low enough that Severus had to strain to hear him. When Draco shook his head in denial, Lucius said. "Did you think your grandfather was a paragon of virtue? That I was the first Malfoy to choose the wrong side in a conflict? There was a Dark Lord before Voldemort, Draco, and Grindelwald had even less mercy."

"And that excuses everything you've done?"

"No. It simply means that I didn't have the sense to learn from my father's mistakes." Lucius raised his head and stared at Severus. "I lacked the courage to even think about openly approaching a boy who interested me because I was worried that my father would disown me. Don't do that, Draco. Not to yourself or to Miss Weasley. You both deserve better."

"Father?"

Lucius turned his attention back to Draco, and Severus felt the loss as if it were physical. 

"Do you love her, Draco?" When Draco nodded, Lucius asked, "And, you, Miss Weasley, do you love my son?"

"It's Ginny," she said, "and yes, I do."

"You'll gain nothing at all from joining this family." Flicking his hair back again, Lucius took Ginny's hand and bowed over it. When he straightened up, he held on to it. "None of us have done well by you or any of your friends over the years, Ginny. You have my deepest apologies for any pain my actions have caused you and your loved ones, and my thanks for being willing to take on this obstinate son of mine."

There was silence for a moment, as if the room were holding its breath, and then Draco embraced Lucius. The shock of it, of two Malfoys showing affection in front of others, made Severus blink. He'd kept up a regular correspondence with Lucius and Minerva, less so with others such as Kingsley and Draco, but he was suddenly aware of the weight of those years and the changes that he'd missed.

"Well, I need a drink after that," Blaise drawled, pushing himself to his feet. "How about everyone else?"

While the others busied themselves, Severus went over to Lucius, who remained standing in the same spot. For reasons Severus couldn't begin to explain, he didn't object when Hermione followed him. 

"You've changed," Severus said, in response to the inquiring tilt of Lucius's head.

"There was little to do in Azkaban but think."

"I'll have to take your word for that," Severus said. 

"Temporary pain and humiliation only, I assure you." The tic of a muscle in Lucius's jaw gave the lie to his claim. "However, my imprisonment did provide me with the time and opportunity required to craft a plan that would both extricate me from the Dark Lord's inner circle and survive the process."

"Oh." The Knut had obviously dropped for Hermione. "You mean you were putting it on? All that drunkenness at the Manor."

"Not quite. I did drink rather more than was necessary," Lucius admitted with a wince. "However, I did work to make myself appear weaker and more inept than I actually was. If nothing else, it ensured that the Dark Lord took out the majority of his frustrations on me, rather than my ex-wife and Draco."

"And made sure you'd done nothing that the Wizengamot could charge you with when the war was over." Hermione tapped a finger on her mouth. "Thicknesse pardoned you, if I remember correctly, and restored your seat on the Wizengamot, ensuring that your past crimes could not be held against you." 

"Not by the Wizengamot, at least," Severus muttered. Then ashamed of his lack of grace, he said, "Getting away from Voldemort was impossible by the end, if one wished to continue living." Realising that he was stroking the scars on his neck, Severus lowered his hand.

"Did you?" Hermione asked. "Want to leave Voldemort, that is?"

"That was not an option. Not with the Dark Lord occupying my home and holding my wife and son hostage," Lucius said. 

Severus hesitated and then said, "I could hardly abandon the children of Hogwarts to the Carrows' non-existent mercy."

Her nod was slow and thoughtful, and it allowed a long-forgotten hope to unfold within Severus. 

Before he could give it voice, however, Pansy came over. A tray with glasses and a set of decanters hovered at her side. Severus allowed her to guide him to a long sofa. He and Lucius settled on either end, with Hermione between them. 

Severus felt almost hypnotised as Lucius kicked off his house slippers to expose long, bare feet and stretched his toes. He wrenched his attention away from them only to find himself admiring Hermione's bare and shapely calves. To his surprise and pleasure, when his eyes finished travelling upwards, he found himself to be the recipient of equally interested gazes from both of them, despite the fact that he was fully dressed and had no intention of removing either shoes or jacket.

 _It could work_ , he told himself. Then he raised his glass to toast Draco and Ginny's engagement, although his attention was on Hermione and Lucius as he added his voice to the chorus.

___('v')___

**3\. Sunday**

Hermione's pillow was far harder than she remembered, and her neck ached from falling asleep in an awkward position. Her right foot was trapped, and less heavy weights were slung over her waist and hips. 

Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to work out what on earth she'd been doing to get herself into this position. On the sofa with Severus and Lucius, she remembered, sipping cognac or brandy or something like that. They'd talked for hours after everyone else had gone upstairs and—

She opened her eyes on a room that was dimly lit by a banked fire and a scattering of candles, and looked directly into a pair of amused grey eyes. Lucius held a finger to his mouth and motioned with his chin to Severus. _Her pillow_. She'd fallen asleep with the two of them: Severus beneath her and Lucius curled around her. And someone had enlarged the sofa to accommodate them. How had she slept through that?

"Do you have any idea how rare it is for Severus to trust like this?" Lucius whispered. "I cannot remember the last time I saw him remove his shoes in front of others."

"The infirmary," Hermione suggested.

"Does not count, since his clothing was not his choice."

"Point."

He settled back and considered Severus again, his eyes soft and a slight upward curve to the left side of his mouth.

"You care about him," she said. 

Lucius's gaze swung to her and then moved from her head to her feet and back up again. Hermione felt pinned in place by his eyes and tempted to inch her rucked skirt further up her thighs. 

"I care," Lucius said. The intensity of his gaze sent a frisson of arousal sizzling down Hermione's spine. Before she could gather herself sufficiently to ask for clarification, Lucius carefully repositioned himself, and rested one hand on the bare skin above her knee; then he reached over and slid his other hand up Severus's foot to clasp his sock-covered ankle.

An audible intake of breath drew Hermione's attention to Severus, who was now watching them both. 

"Hi," Hermione said. 

"Good morning." Severus's sleep-roughened voice sent another shock of desire through her. 

"Not quite," Lucius said. "Unless you count the pre-dawn hours as morning."

Severus shifted beneath Hermione, causing Lucius's hand to slide an inch or two further up her thigh and swamping her with images of herself between them both, of watching them together, of being watched by one while being loved by the other. 

She wanted them in ways that she'd never wanted anyone else, not even Ron or Viktor. Perhaps, she thought, it really could be that simple. 

"Both of you," she said, as if they'd hear all the words she hadn't spoken. 

"Agreed," Severus said, at the same time as Lucius murmured, "But of course."

Then they moved, and she found herself caught between them, kissing, being kissed, and watching them kiss each other. She ran her hands over Lucius's hip and Severus's chest, felt their hands on her. 

"Oh, Merlin." Hugh sighed. "I do believe I've died and gone to heaven."

Before she could think, Hermione had her wand out of its arm holster and pointed at the ghost, who was hovering above them as if he were lying on a chaise. Lucius and Severus drew theirs a millisecond faster.

She narrowed her eyes at Hugh. "You've got it half-right," she said, "and I'd be happy to help you with moving on beyond death."

"You Slytherins spoil all my fun." A smirk on his face, Hugh righted himself and swept them a bow. "Fare thee well, my lords and lady."

"I'm a Gryffindor," Hermione corrected him, but he'd already vanished. She extracted herself from the other two, got to her knees, and turned on them, her wand still out. "You were no help at all," she said.

"You didn't seem to require defending." Lucius twirled his wand and tucked it away. Severus's wand was already out of sight. 

"Frankly," Severus said, "there's little more arousing than a woman who can take care of herself."

They moved towards Hermione, and she slipped backwards and got to her feet. "I'm going to bed," she said. "Should you wish to join me," she narrowed her eyes at them, "to _sleep_ , you're welcome to do so."

Lucius and Severus exchanged a glance. 

"And if we want to do more than sleep?" Severus asked.

Making a performance of holstering her wand, Hermione attempted to get control of the desire that surged through her at his words. No matter how strong her attraction, a weekend was not long enough. She needed to know these men better before opening herself up to the possibility being hurt again. 

When she was sure she could speak evenly, Hermione said, "If you want more than that, spend time with me. Get to know me. Let me get to know you."

Then, turning on one heel, she walked away from them and towards the stairs. Her heart was pounding. She felt as if she were floating. And when she heard them follow her, she smiled beatifically. She'd have to buy Harry and Pansy a lovely hotel-opening gift.


End file.
